Crypt Raider
by Verbosity
Summary: Xander is ripped from his own world into Lara Croft's and discovers that "fiction" can be pretty damn real.
1. Default Chapter

Crypt Raider

By Verbosity 

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: Well, I own, nothing, except the plot. All   
characters are the properties of their respective owners, who are   
not me...I make no profit, nor do I dig into anyone else's, at least   
not that I know of, so don't sue.

As always, the more feedback, the happier I am. So please, make me happy.

Alexander LaVelle Harris inched his way along the rooftop trying desperately to make as little noise as possible. The group of vampires below seemed, so far, to be unaware of his presence. The wooden stake and the cross jammed into his belt dug into skin as he maneuvered himself into a position above the bloodsuckers.            

With all the crap that had been going on lately, running into two vampires dragging a young girl into a warehouse had seemed like par for course for him, and when he couldn't get Buffy, Willow, or anyone on his cell-phone, well…that was just more Xander luck. 

            Now, looking down through the open skylight down onto the group of six vampires gathered around the altar they had strapped the young girl to, he knew somebody upstairs had it in for him. 

            Rationally he probably should try and go for help. After all, his chances of taking out six vampires, even with surprise, were virtually nil. But if he did the girl would be dead, not to mention the fact that aside from Buffy or Wills there wasn't much in the way of help to be had. Considering the neighborhood he was in, there likely was no slayer within yelling distance. 

No, he was on his own. On the bright side he couldn't see any Turok-Han uber-vamps in there. 

He took out the container of holy water he had purloined from the neighborhood church and tried to figure out how to get it to splatter the most vampires at once. 

Suddenly the old dry-rotted timbers of the roof, stressed beyond their limits by the weight of his body, gave way under him. He was so startled he didn't even let out a yell as he hurtled downward in a welter of wood and roofing. The impact drove the wind out of him. Gasping for breath he realized he had landed on something softer than the concrete floor of the warehouse. Unfortunately the softer something didn't like its current use and with an animalistic snarl it surged to its feet, throwing Xander off.  

Wobbling to his feet, every part of his body aching, he realized his back was to the altar the girl was tied to. He also realized he was staring a vampire in the face. The ugly ridged face and yellow eyes twisted into an even more distorted form as it growled at him, and then flinched back as Xander shoved his cross at it. 

 He took a quick glance around him. The other vampires were moving around the altar to get on the same side with him. 

"He guys, sorry to drop in on your party like this…well actually, no I'm not. It's just kinda social politeness that forces me to say that." As he spoke his hand was scrabbling behind him for the knot that held the girls hands. He could hear her sobs behind him. There it was.

"You know you guys should really find another party game than "sacrifice the innocent." I mean come on, it's gotta get boring after the first two or three dozen times." The knot came loose and the girl quickly jerk her hands free of the ropes and, sitting, reached for the ones on her legs. 

The vampires snarled as she came partially free. He leapt forward, thrusting the cross into their faces, waving it to catch all of them. This wasn't going to hold them back long. 

"You'd better hurry." He muttered out of the side of his mouth. 

"I'm trying. The rope is-" Just then the knot came loose. 

Xander saw her feet, kicking free of the rope, catch the small golden statue the vampires had placed at her feet in preparation for whatever ceremony they had planned, and it went tumbling off the end of the altar. 

"No!" The hoarse scream came from one of the vampire's throats and, as it dived for the stature, the others recoiled in fear. He watched the object hit the floor and the "gold" shatter like glass with a sudden sinking feeling. As he had once told Joyce Summers: generally something that makes the scary things scared, is bad. 

Even as he saw the pieces begin to flicker with an odd searing light, he reacted on instinct. The instinct that had kept his friends alive on the Hellmouth for nearly seven years. Heart pounding with an adrenaline high he snatched the young girl from the altar and hurled her bodily as hard as he could out away from the broken statue. Screaming, "Run!"     

He had time to see her slide to a stop about twenty-five feet away and roll dazedly to look back at him before the searing golden light enveloped him and obliterated any sight.

Tumbling through a brilliant and somehow painful golden light for long seconds Xander had time to wonder briefly what the hell was going on and to wonder if he had just died, or was about to, when he was suddenly dropped out of the light into darkness.

Once again he landed on something soft, and this something objected even faster than the last one, a limb slamming him aside even as he hit it. He sprawled upon a much harder, sandy surface, before survival instincts kicked in.

Heaving himself to his hands and knees he lifted his head and found himself staring straight down the barrel of a gun. .45 ACP Heckler & Koch USP pistol, some small part of his mind informed him even as he froze.

"Who the hell are you?" 

His mind registered the British accent even as his eyes followed the barrel up to the arm that held it and past, to the face of…Angelina Jolie! Xander blinked in absolute stupefaction. 

Wait, the momentary brain hiccup passed, it wasn't Angelina Jolie. The angles of the face were just slightly different and her body was definitely not that of the actor. The distinctly feminine proportions were all there, but her figure was that of a true athlete. She definitely wasn't a vampire; she was breathing hard and sweating, as if she had just been doing something strenuous. 

"I repeat. Who. Are. You."   

Right. Gun pointed at my forehead. Answer the lady Xander. "Uhn, Xander Harris."

"How did you get in here?"

Looking cautiously away from her Xander glanced around, and blinked. What the hell? It was a small square corridor: old stonewalls, a stone floor covered in dust dirt and sand, and it was really dark. The only light sources being a small chemical glow-stick hanging from the Jolie look-alike's belt and… 

"Well, I'm kinda guessing my being here has something to do with that."

He pointed one hand toward the small statue laying half out of the small backpack on the sandy floor. It was identical to the one that had smashed falling off the vampire's altar and it was glowing slightly.

"Oh, bugger." Her dark blue eyes went from the statue to him and studied him for another moment then she opened her mouth to speak again. Before she could get anything out a hair-raising noise, somewhere between a scream and a howl, reverberated up out of the darkness of the corridor behind him. "Bloody…"

The pistol swung up away from him and her other hand snaked out to grasp his shirt at the scruff of his neck. One armed she heaved him to his feet and past her in the opposite direction from whatever was making the noise. 

"Run, straight ahead!"

Xander hardly need to be told. When something in Sunnydale made that kind of noise, it was definitely not something he wanted to meet. A moment later he slowed, it was getting rather dark and he realized she wasn't following. Starting to turn back, the sudden thud of running footsteps and brightening light informed him of her approach. 

"Keep going!"

"Uhn, I don't have a light here." Before he could even finish the sentence her heard a slight pop and something was thrust into his hand. Her hand shoved him ahead and, running again, he saw the light stick she had just activated and passed to him begin to glow.

The next couple minutes were a nightmare of dim hallways and jumping shadows, of aching lungs and of those god-awful howls getting ever closer in the stygian darkness. She remained right behind, a warm human presence in the middle of the nightmare, directing him at each fork or intersection, sounding utterly calm and collected. 

"Up ahead, the alcove on the left side of the corridor. Climb up the rope, quickly."

It came into view a second later: a slight depression into the monotonous gray walls. A hole was carved into the ceiling and a rope hung out of the blackness above. He angled toward it when something moved in the shadows near the rope. Before he could do more than have his heart jump into his throat, three precise shots rang-out near his side, painfully loud in the enclosed space. The thing in the shadows jerked violently from the impacts staggering back and collapsing into a motionless heap of fur and scales.   

Reaching the alcove he scrabbled for the rope and threw himself upward hand over hand, muttering, "I hated this in high school gym."

"Move faster." Her voice came from below him and now had a note of tension in it.

The chemical tube, which he had hooked to his shirt collar, using the handy snap on it, threw it's light above him showing the uniform gray stone of the tube he was climbing up. It seemed to end about another fifteen feet above him. A very close howl from below urged him to hurry as he clawed upward.    

Shots rang out below him, and the volume of fire told him the woman had un-holstered the second gun he had noticed on her other thigh. The bellow that came vibrating up the shaft this time had another note in it: pain. 

He was almost to the top when the gunfire cut off and her felt the rope jerk glancing down he saw her light climbing upward at a far greater pace than he was moving. 

Xander's head crested the opening of the shaft and he scrabbled at the stone lip then heaved himself over it. Rolling to his hands and knees he saw the anchor bolt that had been driven into the rock with the rope attached. The rope was jiggling wildly as she ascended much faster than he had and the howl that echoed up from below sounded like the-whatever it was- was right underneath. When her hand cleared the lip he reached out to help her over but she swung herself up and out before he could do anything but extend his hand.

The rope went taut as something big grabbed it from below. A quick move of her hand freed a knife up from its sheath on her leg and in a moment the rope was cut, falling back into the darkness where something howled its rage.

She didn't even pause to let him catch his breath. "Follow me. This is the only way up I know of, but that doesn't mean there aren't more." She dragged him to his feet and set off at a run. 

More featureless gray corridor flashed by, broken only by the occasional door or hall leading off into darkness. There was something different about these corridors than the ones below, the shadows were less dark, the air was cleaner, and the temperature seemed to be warmer. 

Gasping for air Xander kept running, a cramp building in his side. A little in front of him the woman moved easily, in a way that reminded him more of an Olympic sprinter than anything, and to add insult to injury, he didn't even think she was breathing hard. 

Suddenly he noticed a lightening up ahead, a glow almost painfully bright to his dark adjusted eyes. Daylight.

As they approached the exit Xander could see heavy foliage: what looked to be jungle outside. The woman slowed a little as they came in range of the sunlight leaking in. Her head turned toward him, mouth opened to speak, when some sound from the darkness behind them caught her attention. Her long braid swung outward as her head turned quickly in that direction, then the line of her mouth hardened and she stopped within ten feet of the exit.

"Go outside, straight ahead and over the ridge." Even as she spoke she was tugging something out of her small backpack.

"But-" he managed to gasp out. 

"Go." The word was a flat order.

It was as much the sight of what she was attaching to the walls as her command that got him to move. He had seen enough movies to recognize C-4 when he saw it. 

He had reached the rise in the jungle floor just in sight of the labyrinth entrance, about a hundred and fifty feet away, when he stopped. He couldn't bring himself to just leave her, it went against every instinct he had.

Another minute passed when suddenly she came sprinting out of the underground passageway. The comparison to an Olympic sprinter once again passed through his mind as she belted across the small clearing and up the slope toward him. 

A thunderous detonation shook leaves from the trees and his ears popped from the momentary pressure change. She stopped as she reached him and they both looked at the plume of dust and dirt spewing from the collapsed entryway. 

Her heard her mutter, "Well, that deals with the immediate problem."

The last few minutes had been a nightmare, really not all that unusual for the Sunnydale native, the difference was that this had been a confused nightmare. He stared at the beautiful woman beside him, his mind processing the input of the last few minutes.

Xander knew he wasn't as smart as Willow, and he wasn't exactly detective guy, but the indicators here were so obvious they were screaming. And he was having a hard time believing them. 

"We need to get moving. We don't want to be out her after dark, and my jeep is a few miles down the trail." He blue eyes met his as she spoke.

He opened his mouth to speak, closed it, and then opened it again, not quite sure how to ask. Looks like Angelina Jolie, speaks with a British accent, has a long hair braid, carries twin .45's in thigh holsters, and looks to be raiding a tomb.

"You haven't even told me your name." He finally got out, in response to her arching eyebrow.

She turned away down the path, motioning for him to follow, and her voice floated back to him. "Lara Croft."


	2. Chapter 2

Crypt Raider

By Verbosity 

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: Well, I own, nothing, except the plot. All   
characters are the properties of their respective owners, who are   
not me...I make no profit, nor do I dig into anyone else's, at least   
not that I know of, so don't sue.

As always, the more feedback, the happier I am. So please, make me happy.

Chapter 2 

Xander slumped against the cool metal hood of the jeep feeling like he just finished a boot camp run with a sixty-pound pack. The forced trek through the several miles of sweltering jungle taking their toll. The afternoon sun angled through the branches, casting golden spears of light between the trees, but leaving most of the jungle floor in shade. What looked to be the overgrown remnants of an ancient road or pathway cut through the foliage and lead up toward the pass out of the valley.

            Lara hadn't allowed them to stop or even slow down getting to the jeep, and after she had informed him that the things in the buried catacombs came out and hunted at night, he didn't argue. 

            "Here, catch."

            An object came sailing at him from the back of the jeep, where Lara had immediately gone, when they arrived. Awkwardly managing to catch it, it sloshed just a little as he got hold. A canteen. 

            Eagerly he unscrewed the top and, putting it to his mouth, upended it. Water. Cool, clear, beautiful water. 

            "Not too much at once." She said sliding into the drivers seat holding a second canteen. "If something else goes wrong we may need to do some more running."

            He watched as she took a swig from her canteen then laid her head back with her eyes closed for a moment. A grin crept onto her face and she suddenly let out a laugh. "I haven't had that much fun in months."

            Lara's grin widened after her eyes opened and she saw the look on his face. "You think that's strange." It wasn't really a question.

            Xander shrugged, "As I once told a friend of mine: I laugh in the face of danger, then I run and hide until it goes away."

            That earned him a short chuckle, "Very sensible, but not nearly as much fun." Her face became serious again. "And it makes me wonder how you got here."

            The surreal-ness factor, that he had been suppressing during the hike though the jungle, returned full force and he looked back at Lara Croft across the passenger seat of her jeep. How the hell did he get here, and where was here? He was talking to a fictional character for God's sake! Granted, it was one of the fictional characters he would like talk to but… 

Considering past experience on the Hellmouth several options immediately came to mind: hallucination, spell related or otherwise; transfer to some weird alternate dimension, hopefully without a vamp Willow; or he had just plain gone insane. 

            Taking a deep breath he said, "I think that may be a very complicated question. I'm just not sure how complicated yet." Noting the slight frown on her face he asked, "Could we discuss this once we get out of the valley? This place is giving me the jitters. I haven't heard a single animal the entire hike here."

            She motioned him into the jeep, "That's because there aren't any. The creatures eat anything that comes here."

            Her answer to his sideward glance was another smile. The engine growled as she turned it on and shifted into gear. "You might want to buckle up." The jeep lurched forward and Xander's reply was cut off by his teeth rattling as one of the tires dropped into, and pulled out of, a hidden hole.

Lara set the case for the satellite phone down on the table. She glanced around the room gauging spaces. She hadn't been expecting to have company staying with her when she reserved the room from the hotel owner. No other rooms were available due to the sudden increase in the town's population for the annual New Year's festival. She felt a bubble of amusement as she remembered how the proprietor had tried to grossly overcharge her, thinking she was just some sort of tourist. Her fluent, and descriptive, Spanish had quickly disabused him of the notion. 

            It wasn't a huge room, about twenty feet by fifteen, containing a bed, a couple chairs, and a small table. A doorway to her right showed a bath, with an old cast iron tub and copper pipes protruding from the walls. 

            Hearing Xander coming up the stairway she held the door open for him as he carried the sleeping roll and two other packs into room.   

"Dé la bienvenida a mi domicilio humilde." She said.

"Hunh?" He straightened up looking at her.

"Welcome to my humble abode."

"Oh, right." He glanced around and shrugged. "It looks a lot better than some of the places in Sunnydale."

Holding up a finger Lara said, "That conversation, after I get clean. There's food in the gray bag and you still have your canteen." She gestured out toward the rest of the town. "Don't drink the water." 

Shut in the bathroom she stripped off the sweat and dirt grimed clothes, setting her knife and pistols within easy reach of the tub. Glancing in the mirror she winced at a couple of the bruises. The one the temple guardian had given her by throwing her into a wall was going to hurt tomorrow. Maybe she could get in a hot soak in the tub before heading to the airstrip. 

A slight thump and the sound of a moving chair brought her thoughts back to her unexpected companion.  She had an unpleasant suspicion as to how an American got dropped into one of her expeditions to an ancient temple to dark gods in the middle of the Peruvian jungle. Some of the research done on the golden figurine she had brought back indicated that it had been used in rituals that involved people and things disappearing and appearing. Probably indications of some sort of transportation. And, she thought sighing and staring down at the cut on her finger that had bled on the statue, I think I know what set it off.

When she called Bryce after the shower she was going to have him make Xander a plane reservation to wherever his home was.

Something in all of this didn't quite match up, but she wasn't sure what it was yet. The young man had given her some odd looks and his comment about where he had come from being complicated…well something was just off. But even so, there was a sense of good heartedness about him. From the way he had behaved under pressure in the catacombs, he had an uncommon mixture of good sense and bravery. Plus, from certain elements of his behavior, she was beginning to suspect he had something of a white knight complex.

A short shower later she finished ringing the water out of her now unbraided hair. She wrapped the bathroom's towel around herself and scooped up her weapons in one hand and her clothes in the other. Opening the door and exiting the room, she walked toward the bed, where her bag of extra clothes sat. "The bath is yours," she said.

The poor man nearly swallowed his tongue when he turned from the table and caught sight of her. As he coughed, she proceeded to calmly open her bag and pull out a set of clean clothes. 

Putting the clothes aside on the bed she turned her head to where he still sat, staring at her, and deliberately arched an eyebrow. "You don't want a shower then?"

Blushing, he pulled his eyes away from her, and jumped to his feet. At the bathroom door he paused, his back to her. "Is that the only towel?"

The thrown towel landed on his shoulder, still a little damp from her use. "Sorry, but we're going to have to share. I'd lend you some clothes, but I don't think they would fit." There was distinct irony in her tone. 

From the glimpse of the profile of his face as he stared at the towel on his shoulder his eyes had gone very wide. 

"Where are you from Xander?"

"Unh, Sunnydale, California."

The door closed behind him, and she allowed herself a chuckle; it was so much fun to play with people like that. Not to hurt, just to put them off balance. 

Slipping the clothes on she pulled her hair back into a loose ponytail and padded over to the table. The remains of a small meal lay in front of the place Xander had been sitting. In front of where the other chair had been pulled up was a similar meal, waiting. She glanced at the bathroom door and murmured, "Thoughtful."

Taking a bite of the apple she flipped open the satellite phone's case, pulled out the earpiece, and punched in the number of Bryce's workshop in her mansion. It took a moment to connect, and then rang for six times before it picked up. 

"'ello."

The voice was almost slurred. She frowned, "Bryce, have you gotten into the wine cellar again?" 

            "Lara? What…? No. It's two in the bleeding morning." His voice was sounding more normal.

            "Ahh, oops." She didn't need to ask what he was doing in the workshop at this hour. If an idea got into his head you couldn't pry him away from the project with a winch. "Well. There was a little accident here; my information on the statue was incomplete."

            "Accident?" There was worry in his tone. "Lara, how bad is it? What you call an accident most people describe in biblical terms." 

            He could probably hear the wry smile in her tone. "Nothing too bad. I just managed to get an American transported out of a town in California and dropped onto me in the lower catacombs of the temple. Oh, and that temple guardian…it was much bigger than Ranaldis said."

            There was a short pause, then, "Neither turned out to be too much trouble?"

            "Not at all, actually he's rather good looking."

            There was another silence on the line before he said, "I'm going to assume you meant the American chap and not the temple guardian, though I'm not sure there's a whole lot of difference."

"Be nice. I'll get another seat on the flight out of Cuzco, but I need you to book him a flight home from the stopover in New York."

"Let me bring the web connection up…there. What's his name?"

"Xander Harris."

There was the sound of typing and of Bryce, muttering to himself. "Where is he going to?"

"Sunnydale California."

"I'm not getting anything with that name." More typing. "Hum." Another silence, more typing, and then, "Lara." His voice was almost hesitant. "As far as I can tell. There isn't a Sunnydale California. It doesn't exist."

Her eyes drifted toward the bathroom door, behind which she could hear the shower running. Putting her feet up onto the other chair she slumped in her own. Was he lying to her? She didn't think so, and if he wasn't, what was going on here?"

"Bryce, look back into the files I put together on the statue, and contact Ranaldis again. See if you can't dig up any more on it."

"Alright Lara. The plane ticket?"

"I'll deal with it."

As the line disconnected she could hear him mumbling something about caffeine, but she barely heard him. Her gaze was focused intently on the door, her thoughts on the person behind it. Mysteries had always been near irresistible for her. 

"What are you doing here, Xander Harris?


	3. Chapter3

Crypt Raider

By Verbosity 

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: Well, I own, nothing, except the plot. All   
characters are the properties of their respective owners, who are   
not me...I make no profit, nor do I dig into anyone else's, at least   
not that I know of, so don't sue.

As always, the more feedback, the happier I am. So please, make me happy.

Chapter 3 

Drying himself off with the towel, Xander tried not to think about who had just used it. He didn't need to embarrass himself any further. When she had walked out of the bathroom clad just in the towel…Holy God! No, no, he wasn't going to think about that. He was no longer a teenager and had gotten all that hormonal behavior out with Anya.

In spite of the startled urge to turn when the towel had landed on his shoulder, he had managed not to look. A minor miracle considering what he had seen with the towel on; in spite of the similarities Lara was definitely not Angelina Jolie. This lady was in jaw-dropping shape! She… 

No! Stop it! Think about other things: like how the hell she's even here, or you're here, or something. Its gota have something to do with the statue. 

He hung the towel over the shower curtain rod, looked down at his dirty clothes, and then sighing, he began to pull them on. Trying to remember what he knew about Lara Croft, he pondered over all the movie and game information tucked away in his head. 

            Daughter of English Lord…finishing school…plane crash…father killed by illuminati. Humm. The information differed between the movie version and the game version. Which one was she? 

            Well, she looks like Angelina Jolie. I'm betting the movie. So that means she has a butler named Hillary and a techno geek named Bryce.  

            Completely dressed now he stared at his reflection in the mirror and thought, I'm either hallucinating or in another dimension. If I'm hallucinating there's not much to do about it. 

An unpleasant idea occurred to him. Or maybe the First is screwing with my head. Shaking himself he thought, there's not much I can do about that either. So I might as well tell her what I think is going on and see where the chips fall. 

Sighing at his reflection he said, "Everything will work out Xand-man. You'll get back to good old Sunnyhell and everything will return to that nightmarish thing that currently parades as normal." He shook off thoughts of the hideous parody that life had become lately and turned toward the door. "Time to talk to the Tomb Raider."

In the outer room he discovered Lara casually slouched in her chair, and resting her feet on his. Her gaze was fixed on him, seemingly perfectly relaxed, but something told him that though she looked relaxed, she wasn't. 

Seeing the satellite phone on the table next to her he put two and two together, and took a stab, "Talked with Bryce hunh?"

One elegant eyebrow lifted at Xander's use of the other man's name. "Apparently, Sunnydale California doesn't exist."

Xander winced, "I was afraid of that." He gave a little chuckle. "Of course, speaking in terms of your world, that's actually a comforting thought."

Lara's head cocked to the side and he heard her murmur, "My world…" She held up one hand and began to tick points off on her fingers. "You appear out of nowhere, apparently due to the activation of an artifact know for causing the unknown and unusual to appear. From how you keep looking at me I'm beginning to think you recognize me. You claim to come from some place that doesn't exist. You know about Bryce. And you refer to "my world."  All of that adds up to a very odd conclusion." 

She stopped, apparently waiting for his response to that. Brushing his hand nervously through his hair he gave a chuckle that lacked humor. "Yeah, that's the story of my life." He stared at her, trying to figure out the right words to explain. "Well, this started, for me, when I was in Sunnydale. It was evening, and I ran into a group of vampires dragging a girl into a warehouse. They were doing some kind of ritual involving a gold statue, exactly like the one you had, and in the process of freeing the girl it broke. Next thing I knew I was landing on you."

Both of her eyebrows had gone up.

Xander groaned, "Yes, vampires are real. So-"

She cut him off with a slight smile, "I'm aware vampires are real. That wasn't what the expression referred to. It referred to you trying to save the girl. You do remember telling me you laughed in the face of danger then ran away, don't you?"

"Ahh, well…there was no one else there, and…" he trailed off at her growing smile. "What?"

"It just confirms a suspicion." The smile vanished and her expression became intent again. "Now, I don't think that you're one to read much about archeology, so how do you know me?" 

"You…," how did you tell someone this? He drew in a deep breath, "You're a fictional character."

Her only response as she processed that, was a blink, and then, "Pardon?"

"You are a movie and computer game character. Well, computer originally." 

There was a very long silence. "That is…bizarre." She stared into his eyes for a several seconds and then sat back even farther in her seat, her expression baffled. "I don't think you're lying to me and you're not joking."

Xander nodded. "More serious than I usually am."

"Even on the list of things I've encountered, this is strange." 

He made his way over to sit on the corner of the bed while she stared absently at the wall. Sitting there, he studied her face; she really did look like Angelina Jolie. Though the cheekbones were just slightly narrower, and her eyes were a darker shade of blue. The lips were the same and she was currently chewing on the bottom one, lost in thought. She was beautiful. Admittedly he'd been around beautiful women a lot: Buffy, Cordelia, Willow, and Anya…Anya. 

How screwed up things had gotten. Not just between him and Anya, though that was one of the hardest to bear, but for everyone. Buffy and Spike. Tara dying, Willow going insane. Then the madness that had happened more recently: the First Evil itself deciding to go all or nothing, and everybody seemed to be losing it. 

It was almost enough to make him not want to go back. I mean if this was a different world…well no end of the world going on here. But the other part of him, the part that kept him going in the face of all the crap that had been thrown at him said, no. No, you're not quitting. You're not giving up on Buffy, or Wills, or Giles. You'll get back there and everything will get worked out. 

He almost believed it.

Staring down at his hands he abruptly became aware of Lara's gaze resting on him. 

"Based on the evidence so far, I think it's safe to say that you're not from around here." A slight smile crept onto her face, "Because I am certainly not a computer game."

He felt an answering grin form on his face, "How about a movie?"

She considered it for a moment. "Perhaps, if it had a certain level of class and style."

"I don't know about class, but it was certainly fun to watch."  

She absorbed that. "How much do you know about me?"

He considered for a moment. "Broad general knowledge, plus a lot of detail on a few…adventures."

"Then it appears you have the advantage of me."

"I suppose being from an alternate world does have its perks."    

*          *          *

They hadn't the time to do much more in the way of talking at the hotel. Lara had seemed to take most of the evening to chew on the revelations he had already made. Encountering someone from a parallel world, a world in which you were a computer game heroine, was something guaranteed to make even Lara Croft take a momentary step back. She had asked a few more questions about what Xander knew of her, or rather the characters of her, and had spent the rest of the evening cogitating. 

Come morning, she had declared that he would accompany her back to England, where she had access to many more resources, and that she would do her best to get him home. 

Xander, feeling a vast sense of relief at having someone to help him, took refuge in his usual method of responding.

"Cool, I always did want to visit the land of tweed."

"Tweed?"

            "Yeah. It's like your national cloth or something isn't it?"

"Not in this universe."

*          *          *

When they reached Cuzco city in the afternoon Lara declared that he was to get a new wardrobe for his stay in this world. She dragged him off into the city past all of the obvious shops. Dismissing them, when Xander inquired, as tourist traps. She pulled him into a small shop on one of the side streets. To be greeted warmly by the shopkeeper with an unintelligible, to Xander, burst of Spanish to which she replied in kind. 

The shopkeeper, an aging South American gentleman with a laugh-lined face and streaks of white hair at the temples, took his measurements. Proceeding to retrieve various articles of clothing from the back rooms of the shop, which were then approved or vetoed by Lara.

When Xander asked if he got any input in this Lara's answer was a pointed glance at his current clothes and an amused "No."

He left the shop with a small duffle full of clothes, wearing the part of his new wardrobe that was designed for warm weather. 

An hour or so later Xander stood in the Cuzco airport, waiting while Lara finished up with the ticketing arrangements. The new shirt and pants still felt a little odd: too…crisp. After a few minutes of speaking to the ticketing clerk Lara turned from the counter and handed him the small packet of papers. 

"Lara?"

"Humm."

"For the clothes and the ticket…thank you. I don't quite know how I 'm going to manage to pay you back for them yet, but I'll figure something out."

"Don't worry about it."

"But-"

"Xander, I have more than enough money to spare for a ticket and a few extra clothes. Don't worry about it." They left the ticketing area and moved toward the gates.

"What I do worry about." She continued as they approached their plane's gate. "Is getting you through customs at the other end."

"Crap. I hadn't thought of that."

"Oh, don't panic quite yet. I have a couple strings I can pull if I have to."

*          *          *

Settling in on the plane, Xander stretched out in the seat. Oh, God yes. First class. Lara seemed to be highly amused by his expression of hedonistic delight. 

"Hey, it's my first flight in first class, ever." He said, assuming an injured expression. "Not all of us are millionaire heiresses."

"Did you hear me saying anything?" 

"No, but you were thinking it."

"Perhaps just a bit. Though it's nice to see things from a perspective of someone who doesn't have what I do. It keeps my head where it should be." She turned her head to the window as the engines powered up and the plane began to race down the runway.

Turning to Xander when the city was just a distant patchwork on the ground behind them, she studied him seriously for a moment. "Most people don't believe in the existence of real vampires any more than they believe in the multitude of other thing crawling around the world. What happened that you do?"


	4. Chapter 4

Crypt Raider

By Verbosity 

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: Well, I own, nothing, except the plot. All   
characters are the properties of their respective owners, who are   
not me...I make no profit, nor do I dig into anyone else's, at least   
not that I know of, so don't sue.

As always, the more feedback, the happier I am. So please, make me happy.

Chapter 4 

Xander flagged down the steward as he passed by in the aisle and inquired after something to drink. Talking to Lara for hours almost nonstop had dried out his mouth. He had started by giving her the basic rundown on Sunnydale but it had quickly become more than that. 

Lara listened. Xander wasn't sure anyone had ever listened to him quite like that, not even Wills. Back home rarely did anyone truly listen to him; there was always some kind of sub-context going on: we know more about this than you do, or your not smart enough to give any good ideas about this, Xander. Sometimes it was very subtle but it was there. Everyone was always surprised when he came up with a good idea, no matter how many times he did it. Lara, however, sat quietly, un-interrupting, as he spoke about the Hellmouth and the associated evils. Her gaze remained steady and intent never wavering from his face, attention never drifting, her expression occasionally changing as one emotion or another invoked by the story played over her features. 

Maybe it was the attention or maybe it was her sympathetic listening: a quiet encouraging warmth that urged him to continue whenever he paused or faltered, but he found himself telling her far more than he intended.

The story of how he was introduced to vampires was hesitatingly drawn from him as he told her of Jessie, of how he had to stake his best friend. Sadness and sympathy flashed in her blue eyes, but she did not voice any platitudes. She seemed to understand that he was past that point; all he wanted now was to make sure that no one ever had to do something like that again. The barebones of the last seven years of Sunnydale history were outlined over the course of several hours, all leading up to the events of the present. He tried not to let his turmoil and frustration leak through in his relating of the current situation, but from the thoughtful look in her eyes he didn't think he had succeeded.

He just decided to go with the old orange juice route to slaking his thirst when the steward mentioned that dinner would be coming around soon. Proverbial ears perking up at the mention of food, he began to quiz the man on the menu.

Hellmouth. That was a new word in Lara's experience. The story Xander had told her was startling, amazing, horrifying, and shocking. It made her reassess her perceptions of the relentlessly cheerful, sometimes goofy acting, young man sitting next to her on the plane. 

            Lara knew of vampires, her rather unorthodox activities having brought her into contact with them more than once, and she knew of many other strange and terrible things that walked the night. Remnants from past civilizations and forgotten ages lay in the dark corners of the earth, but these things were few and far between, encountered only when she sought them out in pursuit of one goal or another. 

            She studied him as he grilled the steward on what the menu was for the flight. To be living practically on top of a doorway into Hell, that was held shut only by the most ethereal of chains. To remain there when the contents of Hell threatened to spill out over the world as an almost regular occurrence… She gave a little shiver. Her opinion of him just went up, sharply.

            Xander's world had been saved by the members of his little group time and again. The things he had told her were amazing, but the things he had left unsaid were equally frightening. Lara was impressed by what they had accomplished and what they had endured, individually, and as a group. She was less impressed by many more recent decisions, though she understood them. 

            Ever since the crash and her traumatic two-week trek through the Himalayas had utterly changed her outlook Lara had been a firm believer in choices. Everyone was responsible for their own choices. You didn't have control of everything in your life, a good thing in her view, but you had control of what you did with the options you had. If you didn't like what you had become you had no one to blame but yourself.   

Xander obviously wasn't the type to blurt out his friends confidences but Lara had always been very adept at reading between the lines; a skill honed to a fine art by her culture-hopping lifestyle. Learning to read people and events, both from what they said and left unsaid, had saved her life more than once. The implications she had read into the events happening in his world and, more specifically, the behavior of the people involved, were frightening. 

            The future of that world rested in the hands of a moderately self-centered girl suffering from posttraumatic stress disorder, a Wicca who had traumatic issues of her own and addictive tendencies, an unstable vampire just recently imbued with a soul, who had done more harm than good, and three or four others, all with serious issues of their own. God help them all.

It was early morning when they arrived in London. Reaching customs, Xander, lacking a passport and visa, was immediately shunted to a small featureless holding room off one of the back corridors. When the customs agent motioned for him to follow Lara said, "Go with him Xander. I just need to make a few phone calls and I'll get everything straightened out."

Almost an hour later Xander was beginning to get a little worried, not to mention bored of staring at white walls, when the door finally swung open. The middle aged official-looking gentleman who entered was followed immediately by Lara who gave him a grin and "thumbs up" behind the man's back. Xander felt his stomach do a little pleasant flip-flop at her grin, but didn't have much time to dwell on the sensation as the gentleman held out a couple pieces of paper to him and said, "Terribly sorry for the wait Mr. Harris. Lady Croft has arranged a visa for you for an indefinite length of stay. Welcome to England." 

"Uh, thanks."

Turning to go he stopped at the doorway, "And Mr. Harris. Do try to remember your passport next time. It does tend to be useful when traveling internationally."

Xander looked after the departed man for a moment then raised an eyebrow at Lara, "British sarcasm hunh?"

"It's a trademark. Now come on, my bruises desperately want a bath and I suspect you're probably as tired as I am."

 A short stop at the baggage claim later saw them at the curb just outside the terminal.

Looking around at few people loading bags into cars or crossing the street to the parking garage, Xander said, "Are you parked in the garage or should I try and flag down a taxi?"

Lara glanced at him with a slight smirk. "Neither, I've arranged for a car to be delivered."

"Delivered? What…"

Xander trailed off as, with a purring rumble, a silver Aston Martin pulled in smoothly to the curb in front of them. A young gentleman exited the vehicle and Lara stepped to meet him.

"Lady Croft."

"Hello, Greg." 

She signed the papers he presented to her and took the keys. "Thanks for bringing the car out."

The young man gave her a cheerful grin. "It's what we do, and it was a pleasure. Not many of our customers have cars that are this much fun to drive." 

"Glad you enjoyed it. Until next time."

"Lady Croft." 

The young man gave Xander a nod before wandering off toward the shuttle station. 

Lara stuffed her bag in back of the seat and paused, looking at Xander, who was still standing on the curb staring at the car. Leaning her elbows on the top of the car she just raised her eyebrows at him.

"That is an Aston Martin, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"That's so cool. A bond car." Xander was practically drooling.

"I thought you'd like it." 

A few moments later as Xander settled into the luxurious seat and Lara turned the key in the ignition, she asked, "James was in the movie as well?"

"Hunh?"

"You said, Bond car."

"Yeah. Wait a minute, you mean…"

"The car was a gift from James." Xander stared at her, mouth hanging open. "Oh, and don't touch any of the buttons." She gestured at the dash. "He left most of the extra's in."

Okay, just another freaky, yet strangely cool happening. Not only is there a Lara Croft but apparently James Bond exists here too. Hum. I must be in British superhero world.

Xander watched the streets of London fade into the suburbs and then to fields as Lara drove them south away from the airport. She seemed lost in thought as she steered the car smoothly along the roads. The sky had begun to lighten with the coming dawn and Xander felt sandy-eyed with lack of sleep. A yawn cracked his jaw.

"It won't be much longer. Feel free to doze if you'd like."

He turned his head away from the window and toward her. The growing light illuminated her profile and he was struck again by her beauty.

"What is it?"

He realized he was staring at her. "I'm sorry. It's just this is all so surreal. This morning I was watching TV, and I caught a commercial announcing the new Lara Croft movie. Now, thirty some odd hours later, here I am, in England, with Lara Croft, and driving in James Bond's car. What would the guys…" He trailed off, a sudden lump in his throat. 

Into the sudden silence Lara said, "I'll do my best to get you home Xander." 

"Taking a deep breath he said, half seriously, "What, no promises?"

She gave a little sad smile. "I never make promises that I'm not certain I can keep. We have the statue that's at the root this all, but I can't be certain it will get you back, and Bryce is contacting the people who might be able to help, so don't think you are alone in this." One hand came off the steering wheel, took Xander's, and gave it a firm squeeze.

They sat in silence for a time as the car moved along the Surry roads. Xander gazed around as they passed woods, fields, and the occasional large mansion. Craning his neck he saw a group of horses gambling around in one of the fields.

"Do you have horses?"

"Yes, several."

"Do you ride?"

"That would go with having the horses. Yes." Her voice had a touch of irony in it. 

"Hey, you're rich, you're British, and you're eccentric. You don't need a reason to have them."

"Eccentric am I?"

"In comparison to ninety-nine percent of the world population? Yes. Of course that doesn't mean that the ninety-nine percent doesn't want to be like you."

"I'll take that as a rather odd compliment."

"You should." 

The car rounded one of the rolling hills and Lara slowed the car to turn into the gate guarding the driveway along the north side of the road. "Here we are."

They passed through the open wrought iron gate, bathed in the first touch of the suns light, and passed down the driveway. Xander had the impression, looking around, of the same types of fields and woods that he had seen all the way here. As they pulled up toward the manor he thought, Yup just like the movie.


	5. Chapter 5

Crypt Raider

Chapter 5

By Verbosity 

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: Well, I own, nothing, except the plot. All   
characters are the properties of their respective owners, who are   
not me...I make no profit, nor do I dig into anyone else's, at least   
not that I know of, so don't sue.

  


*******************************************

  


"Here is your room Mr. Harris." The butler said as he opened the door.

  


"Thanks Hillary, and it's just Xander. Mr. Harris makes me think of my father, and I'd rather not."

  


"Very well."

  


Xander moved past Hillary and got his first look into the room. Whoa! Summed up his thoughts on the matter. Finely worked wood panels wrapped the walls of the room and the soft light of the lamps shone on their dark finish. A couple windows broke the one of the walls, and long sweeping drapes blocked any view of the outside. Several plush carpets interrupted the smooth expanse of the hardwood floor, in particular, one next to the bed and another in front of a stone fireplace. The veined and highly polished surface of the marble reflected the flames currently dancing in the hearth. The bed was huge, he could lay crossways on it and barely stick over the ends, and judging from the fine quality of the blankets it was probably really comfortable. In fact, given his current state, the bed was looking very seductive indeed. 

  


"The washroom is there, and is stocked with everything you should need. Judging from Lady Crofts, requests, particularly after arriving home subsequent to one of her adventures, I've taken the liberty of drawing you a bath." Hillary gestured to the other doorway in the room, through which Xander could make out tiling. "If you have any other needs, I will be readily available. Goodnight, Xander."

  


"Goodnight, Hillary. And thanks again." Xander turned away from the outer door as it closed behind the butler. He looked longingly at the bed for a moment, and then turned toward the washroom. Drawing on his knowledge of Englishness from Giles, the bath was probably a subtle hint. 

  


Hillary had met Lara and himself at the door when they arrived. Bryce was still asleep in his trailer, being sane enough not to be awake at five-thirty in the morning. Introductions aside, Xander had been witness to a rather restrained case of English style mother-hennery, as Hillary fussed over Lara. 

  


"I'm quite alright, Hillary. Just a few bruises this time." Mock exasperation was in her voice, and there was clear affection in her features as she spoke to the man. "Is Xander's room ready for him?"

  


"Certainly, I've put him in the Hambly room. Your bath is waiting for you, so you'd best go straight up before it's cold."

  


"Bless you, Hillary, you're a Godsend." Turning briefly to Xander she said, "I'll see you when we've both had a few hours sleep. Goodnight, Xander." She had disappeared up the stairway ahead of them, as Hillary had guided Xander to his room. 

Tossing his bag onto the bed he made his way to the washroom. Stopping in the doorway, he goggled again; the room was three quarters as big as the bedroom. There was a great abundance of light colored tile, and a number of plants sat about in various corners. A large raised bathtub dominated one corner of the room while sunlight streamed in through windows of that rippily glass that allows light through but you can't actually see anything in.

  


A moment later the words, "Jacuzzi tub!" Echoed in the bathroom.

  


***

  


Consciousness returned languidly accompanied by an awareness of being extremely comfortable in spite of several aches and pains. Stretching lazily Lara flipped off the sheets and comforter covering her. She glanced at the clock. One-thirty in the afternoon. Lying back, she turned her thoughts toward her guest in the room down the hall, and pondered the picture that was Alexander Harris. 

  


Alexander. She'd always liked that name, though for some reason he hadn't explained, Alexander preferred to be called Xander. Ah, well, it was his name; she'd let him do whatever he wished to it.

  


He hadn't talked much about himself yesterday on the plane. Mostly he had spoken of his friends: Buffy, Willow, Giles, Dawn, and Anya. He had mentioned others in passing, but those people had taken the bulk of his words. Yet from what she knew of him already, learned in the last couple days, she couldn't see him sitting on the sidelines during the events he had described.

  


Either he was very modest, or he didn't think of his contributions as important. Lara was leaning toward the second. The signs were in his behavior; the self-deprecating sense of humor, the drive he had to protect his friends, the way the words had poured out of him with just a little encouragement spoke of little receptive audience, and when she had asked about his family, he had deflected the question with a far too practiced skill. It rang alarm bells in her head. 

  


She wasn't certain, of course, but as long as he was here, she could provide a willing and friendly ear. 

  


Which brought her to getting him home. Turning her head to stare in the direction of the vault she had deposited the statue in before she went to sleep, she frowned. The information Renaldis had come up with had been specific about how it worked, or at least how its previous possessors had used it. The summoning rituals always required a blood sacrifice. She looked at the healing cut on her finger. Something that small shouldn't have triggered it, but it may have been enough to create a connection between her version of the statue and the one from Xander's world. When the one in his world was destroyed… 

  


Shaking her head, Lara cut off the train of thought. Useless speculating until she had more information. The mechanics of spell weaving and inter-dimensional travel were not her field of study. A slight grin crossed her features at the thought. If they were specifically anyone's.

Her stomach chose that moment to remind her that she hadn't had anything to eat since dinner on the flight from New York. Rolling out of bed she padded toward the washroom to prepare for the day.

  


  


***

  


  


Lara entered the kitchen, to find Bryce and Hillary both there: Hillary finishing putting together something on the counter and Bryce sitting at the table eating. 

  


"Good afternoon, Lara." Was Hillary's good-natured greeting.

  


"Muurmphf." Bryce's was muffled by his current mouthful of food.

  


"Good afternoon, Hillary." She leaned down next to Bryce, and whispered into his ear, "It works better if you don't have something in your mouth when you speak."

  


Giving her a "look", Bryce gestured behind himself, toward the lab. "I talked to Ranaldis. He said everything indicates that the statue creates some sort of inter-dimensional transfer effect. But that unless you did some sort of ritual sacrifice it shouldn't have been a problem. So he doesn't know where the American came from."

  


"Already ahead of you there, Bryce. I'll talk to Renaldis later and fill him in on the details; I've a few questions that need to be answered."

  


Hillary, finishing up at the counter, moved to the table and set a plate of food down in front of where Lara had seated herself. "So you've managed to determine where Xander is from?"

  


"That's an odd sort of name." Bryce took another bite of his sandwich.

  


"Short for Alexander, and the story of where he came from is a rather interesting one." Lara proceeded to relate to them and edited version of what Xander had told her. Telling only the bare facts and leaving out any emotional content he had shared, inadvertently or not, with her. 

  


Hillary and Bryce were both a bit taken back and sat, silent, thinking it over. Digging into her food, Lara let them cogitate. Bryce was the first to break the silence.

  


"If it wasn't for you bringing him here I'd say he was completely off his trolley." He looked at Lara, questioning.

  


"No, as far as I can tell, he's quite sane."

  


"I think that's even more frightening." Hillary said. "On several levels."

  


"So our task in this merry little adventure is to find out what happened, and…" Bryce said.

  


"Get him home." Lara finished.

  


Hillary looked at her questioningly. "To play devil's advocate for a moment, but what if we can't?"

  


Sighing, Lara set down her fork. "I've been avoiding that particular thought. I feel somewhat responsible for his predicament; I believe I played some part in the statue's activation."

  


"Come on, Hillary, have you ever known Lara to not be able to do something she put her mind to?"

  


"Once or twice, but in general no." Hillary smiled. "But it's too early for pessimism. I'm sure everything will turn out for the best; it always does." He gave Lara's shoulder a squeeze. "More immediately, you need to finish eating. Keep your energy up. I believe I feel another bout of your globe hopping coming on. Which means I'll need to make certain your travel packages are all in order."

  


"Probably not a bad idea. I doubt the solution to this problem will be as simple as the statue in the vault."

  


As Hillary exited the kitchen Lara's attention returned to her plate. Momentarily, she became aware of Bryce watching her. Meeting his eyes with a raised eyebrow, she simply looked back at him, waiting.

  


"Lara…" he trailed off. 

  


"Whatever it is, just spill it out."

  


"It's not really a completely formed idea. It's just… You may find the thought ridiculous."

  


She did occasionally find his ideas odd or inane, but she valued him far too much to every truly make fun of what he thought. Bryce was far too sensitive for her to do that, as she might with some of her more robust friends. He was family to her, and she may not agree with his thoughts, but she did want to hear them. "You know I won't make fun of your ideas. Just tell me."

  


"You say that, to Xander, we're fictional." He paused. "What does that mean for us exactly? If his universe is actually the real one…"

  


Lara considered him for a moment. "Are you concerned about not really existing? That this all was not just thought up in someone's head?"

  


"I guess so."

  


"I don't believe you need to worry about that. I think we're all equally real. Who's to say there aren't many universes? If I were God I certainly wouldn't feel like stopping at just one. After all, there are so many possibilities for existence to explore. No, Bryce. You are quite real."

  


A sound from the hall prompted them to turn toward the door and a moment later Xander poked his head into the kitchen.

  


"This place is incredible, Lara. I got lost somewhere back that a way and so far I've wandered through a pool room, a museum, a gym, and a library…and you would be Bryce right?" 

  


Bryce had an odd expression on his face as he glanced from Lara to Xander. "Yes, that would be me."

  


"Cool. You think I might get a look at that seven foot tall robot sometime?"

  


"Simon? Certainly." His face began to light up as he started in on one of his favorite subjects. "Actually I was just going to…"

  


"Ah, first things first, boys. I need you to talk with Rambaldis, Xander. And we'll see if he can't be any help in getting you home. Then you can go to Bryce's lab."

  


Xander's stomach chose that moment to do an imitation of a tiger's rumble. Lara smiled as Xander looked embarrassed. 

  


Remembering his appetite on the plane, she said, "But, even before that, I believe we need to find you something to eat, before your stomach turns cannibal."


	6. Chapter 6

Crypt Raider

Chapter 6

By Verbosity 

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: Well, I own, nothing, except the plot. All   
characters are the properties of their respective owners, who are   
not me...I make no profit, nor do I dig into anyone else's, at least   
not that I know of, so don't sue.

  


  


  


"You do know what you've let yourself in for?" Lara said once they were out of Bryce's hearing range.

"What, with Bryce? Ah, don't worry. I have a friend back home he reminds me of. Except Willow's prettier, and a woman, and bit less of a geek…and gay…and…well okay, maybe their not so similar, but talking to him will still be the same. I won't understand half the sentences, so I'll just nod, smile, and look at all the really cool gadgets." 

Her only reply was a chuckle.

Xander took a look around the room she led him to. There were a number of shelves laden with books and various other curiosities. On one shelf there was six inch high Egyptian statue, while on another was a model of a old sailing ship. He was willing to bet that the collection of objects around the room was worth a small fortune. 

Lara walked around the massive mahogany desk and seated herself while motioning for Xander to pull up a chair. 

  


Facing the large flat screen monitor, he noted the small camera lens visible on the top edge of the screen. Facing the monitor Lara spoke, "Ring, Ranaldis." Momentarily the screen activated and the word "connecting" appeared.

  


"Lara? Is that you?" The sound of the voice brought to mind some crotchety old man, and a moment later this image was confirmed as a picture appeared. 

  


The man was old, as he looked to be in his seventies or eighties, with a long narrow face and a sparse beard that had gone all white. This silvered hair was wild and unkempt, looking like someone had assaulted it with garden shears, and spectacles covered his blue eyes. The eyes peering out from behind the lenses were not in the least wild or unfocused. They glimmered with a sharp, avid, intelligence as they looked through the screen at Xander and Lara.

  


"Hello, Ranaldis. Your information on the temple was just a little off this time." Lara's voice had a chiding note.

  


"Bah. You try piecing together exact information from millennia old scroll fragments and we'll see if you do any better. I warned you I expected to be wrong on a few points."

  


"Yes, but you were wrong by about fifteen feet and twelve thousand pounds when it came to the temple guardian. My pistols weren't terribly effective against something that big and when I fed it one of my C-4 charges, and I think I only gave it indigestion. Please do try not to be that type of wrong in the future."

  


"But you have it?"

  


"Of course. The statue is in the vault."

  


Sharp blue eyes peered through the screen at Xander. "And this is the American Bryce mentioned?"

  


"Quite. Alexander Harris, this is Marko Ranaldis. Ranaldis is a supplier of information and knowledge ranging from the ancient world into the realms of the arcane. If it was ever written, he can generally find it, translate it, and piece it together meaningfully. Of course, he charges a hefty fee for most of his services."

  


Ranaldis snorted. "I certainly do. My old bones have a need to be comfortable in this dreary world. Doing that properly doesn't come cheap." He paused, his eyes studying Xander again. "However, I must say I am curios about this latest wrinkle."

  


Lara sat straighter, appearing to hear something in the man's tone. "Has something else happened?"

  


The old man shook his head. "Answer me a couple questions first. What time did he appear? Be as specific as you can."

  


Lara raised an eyebrow consideringly, but complied. "About one in the afternoon two days ago.

  


"And you, Alexander. Tell me exactly what circumstances brought you here."

  


Xander glanced hesitantly at Lara and, at her nod, related his story once again. Ranaldis remained intent upon Xander's narration, interrupting several times to ask questions about small details. What did the fragments of the broken statue look like? What shade was the light that engulfed him? How long was he enveloped by it? And so forth. The grilling proceeded for about five minutes before the old man was satisfied. They watched as he settled back into his chair, mulling it all over.

  


After a few seconds of silence Lara cleared her throat. 

  


"Don't pester me young lady. Never rush genius; all it gets you is crappy product." 

  


"You're on my payroll…"

  


Ranaldis cut her off, saying, "I would be working on this even if I wasn't. This is, by some means, bigger than just a single American popping in from a parallel dimension. I would guess that the destruction of the statue in the other world unbalanced something important. Because when he crossed over, anyone and everyone with any kind of sensitivity felt it. What that means, precisely, I don't know yet."

  


He eyed Xander once again. "My contacts in the spiritual realms are, as you would probably put it, "freaking out." I can't get them to make any sense on the matter." 

  


There was a moment of silence as Xander and Lara absorbed this. 

  


Xander muttered something under his breath, and all Lara caught was, "…stepped in it again…"

  


"Do you know of any way to return him home?"

  


Ranaldis shook his head. "No, and I wouldn't try even if I did. Not with the ether reacting the way it is. Not until I knew more." 

  


"Then find out more. Do you have any idea of how long it will take?"

  


Another snort emanated from the man. "No idea. Weeks to months, is my best wild guess."

  


"Months!" The word was forced out of Xander. "But the guys, they…" He trailed off and took a deep breath, coming to grips with the unpleasant truth: if Lara and Ranaldis couldn't get him home faster, than there was nothing he could do. 

  


The gaze of the man on the other side of the screen showed a hint of sympathy and he could feel Lara's gaze from beside him.

  


"You can't speed it up, hunh?" Xander said.

  


"I'm sorry Alexander. Your friends will simply have to do without you until we find a way back."

  


Xander suddenly felt Lara's hand on his arm, a warm comforting weight, as he looked down at his hands.

  


"Do everything you can Ranaldis. I'll deposit to the usual account. Contact me again when you have anything."

  


"Wish me luck, I have a feeling I'm going to need it." The connection terminated. 

  


Months, the word echoed in Xander's head. Anything could happen in that time. His friends could be killed, the world could end, and, he almost laughed at the thought, his job would certainly be gone. By that time he would be just another Sunnydale statistic: Alexander Harris. Age: 22. MISSING. 

  


His parents wouldn't turn a hair; they didn't care if he was alive or dead, other than to berate him for one thing or another. Buffy…who knew how Buffy would react, given the way she'd been behaving. He heart was good, but… Maybe his disappearance would be the jolt that brought her back to herself. Maybe it would finish driving her over the edge. Willow would certainly be frantic. He just hoped she didn't go postal like with Tara. Granted, he hadn't been killed in front of her, but "missing" in Sunnydale was synonymous with "dead." Dawn. Xander probably had been one of the more normal people in Dawn's life. He had tried to be something of a constant for her during the crap being the slayers sister and The Key entailed. Here's to hoping this didn't shake her up too much. 

  


Maybe his disappearance would help out Anya, at least. She could finally get rid of the last of the emotional baggage he had saddled her with. This might be the way to cut the last of the rather painful ties between them.

  


And Spike…who the hell cared what Spike thought, aside from Buffy. The bleached wonder should long ago have been dust from his point of view. 

  


Xander wondered if they would figure out what had happened. If the girl he had saved got away…if she had she might be able to tell them. But that didn't mean anything. He was here, and from the look of things he was going to be here for a while.

  


Coming back from his thought he became aware that he had been sitting silently for quite some time. Lara's hand was still resting on his arm and she sat quietly beside him, a comforting presence. 

  


Raising his head, he met her gaze. There was concern, sympathy, understanding, and one or two other emotions he couldn't put a name to. Gazing silently back, he felt a curious warmth, at her regard. 

  


Whoa. Was his immediate response to the feeling. He was not going there. Lara had no interest in him. There was no possible way. 

  


Suddenly embarrassed, he groped for something to say. His eyes landed on the screen and a thought came to him. "Lara, how much is this costing you? Ranaldis, I mean."

  


Her mind jumped ahead of his to where he was headed. "Don't worry about the money Xander. As long as you're with me it's not a concern."

  


His mouth worked for a moment at the firm statement, then, "Thank you, but I feel like I'm mooching off you. I should be…doing…something."

  


"Well, we can't have you "mooching", can we?" A grin began to creep onto her face. "I haven't had a new sparing partner on the practice mat in ages."


	7. Chapter 7

Crypt Raider

By Verbosity 

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: Well, I own, nothing, except the plot. All   
characters are the properties of their respective owners, who are   
not me...I make no profit, nor do I dig into anyone else's, at least   
not that I know of, so don't sue.

  


  


  


  


"Buffy?"

"Willow? I though you were going to stay at the hospital with…"

"Uh, yeah, been there since last night. And there's the not having changed since LA thing…needed a short break. Faith is there now."

"Oh, okay. She hasn't woken up yet?"

  


"No, still unconscious. Have you seen Xander? One of the girls broke the coffee table."

  


"Again? What is it with that piece of furniture? Every single time anyone enters the house the first thing they do is break the coffee table. I should buy spares to…"

  


"Uh, Buffy? Not one to interrupt a perfectly good rant, but…"

  


"Right, Xander. Um, he's…well…he's… I don't know where he is."

  


"Well, were did you last see him?"

  


"Here. It was…yesterday, I think. Or maybe it was the day before…"

  


"Two days! Buffy, you haven't seen him since?" 

  


"I've just been really distracted with the Spike, Giles, and Robin thing. Not to mention all of…" There was a sudden crash and spate of shrieks and giggles from the living room. "Potentials." 

"But two days! Buffy…"

"I'm sure he's okay, Willow. He said something to me about talking to Anya. After that he probably didn't feel like being in a house with a large group of teenage girls. 

"Hey, guys?" Dawn stuck her head into he room. "Have you seen Xander anywhere? He was supposed to take Kennedy and me to the mall today. I can't get hold of him, and his cell phone is giving that out of range message." 

  


As Dawn looked at the two of them Buffy's expression changed and Willow got an increasingly worried expression on her face. 

  


"What is it?"

  


  


***

  


  


"Yes, thank you. Goodbye." Giles hung up the phone. "He's not at work. It fact he didn't come to work yesterday, and he wasn't in today."

  


"Oh God, oh God. The First must have done something and…"

  


"Calm down Willow." Buffy took hold of the agitated witch's arms. "He's gonna be okay. If the First has taken him we'll find him and get him back." 

  


Dawn gestured wildly as she rounded on her sister. "We've checked everywhere, Buffy." 

  


Buffy glanced out the window at the reddening sunset. "It'll be dark soon. We can get Spike to help look in some of the more out of the way places."

  


"If the First has hurt him I'll make it wish…well…it had never been first." There was a note in Willow's voice that reminded the others of what she had done the year before.

  


"Indeed. Though I believe we should exhaust all the avenues of inquiry before we assume the First Evil is behind this." Giles spoke up trying to defuse the anger building in Willow's eyes.

  


"Avenues. Right. Oh, I'll check the police reports and see if there's been anything." Willow exited the room to get her laptop.

  


"While the rest of us…" Buffy started.

  


The phone rang.

  


"Hello." Giles answered. "Yes, Faith. Alright, I'll tell Buffy."

  


"Tell me what?" Buffy asked as Giles hung up.

  


"The girl is awake, and asking for you."

  


  


***

  


  


Buffy burst through the front door followed by Faith. "Dawn." She called to the teenager who was on the stairs. "Get the potentials together I need to talk to them all."

Looking into the dining room she saw Willow still on her computer. "Willow…"

"Buffy, I think I found what happened to Xander." 

Buffy's words died on her lips as she took in Willow's expression. The police reports. Please, God, let it be just that he got picked up and needs to be bailed out. 

  


God apparently wasn't listening.

  


"Red?" Faith looked between Buffy and Willow. "Something's happened to the Xand-man?"

"Willow?" Buffy spoke, the single word a request.

"A young girl was picked up by the police. She told them that she had been kidnapped by a group of men with "ugly, distorted, faces" and that they had taken her to a warehouse. It looked like they were going to do some kind of ritual, a sacrifice or something. But a man matching Xander's description interrupted and freed her."

"What happened to Xander?" Faith voiced the question. 

"The report says she told them that a statue they were using in the ceremony broke and Xander threw her away from him…just before there was a flash of golden light. When it was gone, so was he. Buffy, we have to go examine the statue and the warehouse to find out what happened." 

Buffy's face was blank as she stared at Willow. 

"Buffy?" Dawn's voice came from the living room. 

The lines of her mouth tightened and Buffy said, "I don't have time for this."

The stunned look on Willows face lasted just a moment. "Buffy this is Xander..."

"And I'm trying to save the world, Willow. The First is up to something with a guy named Caleb and we need to find out what. Xander will have to wait." She turned and walked back into the living room.

Faith stared after her for a moment before glancing back at Willow, who's face showed a roil of emotions passing over it. Following Buffy, she muttered, "Things are even more screwed up here than I thought." 

  


***

  


  


Xander hit the mat hard enough to drive all the air out of his lungs, stunned, he lay on his back gasping for air. Getting his breath back he looked upward into the frowning countenance of Lara.

  


"You fight vampires?"

  


"Yeah, seven years now. Multiple bruises and scrapes to show for it, but only one broken bone."

  


"Remarkable."

  


"Hey! You don't have to sound so surprised." 

  


She stared down at him seriously for a moment then crouched down next to him. "Xander, to be brutally honest, your fighting skills are terrible. So, yes, I am surprised." She looked at him contemplatively for a moment, and then continued, "So, we'll just have to remedy that, won't we?"

  


He groaned. "More bruises?"

  


She grinned at him. "Probably, but not today." Taking hold of his hand, she stood, pulling him to his feet. "Go on. As I remember, you wanted to "check out" Bryce's entertainment system."

  


"Thanks for the reprieve."

  


"But remember, same time tomorrow."

  


  


***

  


  


  


Lara dropped the workout clothes into the laundry hamper and crossed the room to the shower. Not that she'd worked up a terrible sweat throwing Xander around the mat, but she did prefer being clean.

It was strange, Xander's lack of fighting skills made no sense. He had been living, virtually in a combat zone, every night for the last seven years and no one had ever given him lessons in any form of hand-to-hand combat. She would have thought it was the obvious thing to do. Buffy, this so-called Slayer, or Giles, should have taken it upon themselves to give Xander the tools to survive on the Hellmouth. Yet they had done nothing, practically throwing him to the wolves as it were. 

  


Certainly Xander had made his own choice to fight, and he should have taken some action to learn, but his friends who had the skills, should have helped him. Could they be so self-centered that they didn't see the danger Xander's lack of skill put him in? According to Xander they had tried to push him away from the fighting and out of "danger". She found it impossible to believe that anyone who was friends with him could miss-judge his character so severely. Once Xander knew of the battle, there was no way he was going to stay out of it. All their pushing him away had done was to isolate him and put him in more danger. It was bloody amazing that he hadn't been maimed or killed.

  


The more she learned of Xander's "friends" the less she found herself liking them.

  


Lara was a little surprised at how angry she was. She hadn't known Xander for very long, yet somehow he had already gotten under her skin. She liked him; there was a good-natured, irrepressible sense of life about him. His sense of humor didn't hurt either.

  


She would be damned if he was going back into that hellhole without as much preparation as she could give him. No, bloody well not.

  


Finishing up in the shower she dried off while considering the problem. Slipping on another set of clothes she moved to the study. 

  


A sudden thought popped into her head and a smile crept onto her face. Yes, that would do nicely. Reaching for the phone on the desk she took a moment to recall the number and then dial. 

  


Hello. Akahito? This is Lara. I'm quite well thank you, and how are you? And your family? I'm glad Sachi is doing so well. I have a bit of a problem at the moment, and I believe you are better suited to assist than me. You see… (In Japanese)

  


Minutes later Lara hung up the phone. On problem attended to. Now, what else can we work with? She settled back into the chair contemplating what the best method of preparing Xander would be. 

  


  


***

  


  


Once you got past the whole geeky factor, Bryce was pretty cool. Not that Xander was one to talk about geeks. His best friend was one after all, and he had been "in" with that crowd for as long as he could remember. Bryce was a good guy, he just didn't relate well to people. 

  


Hillary was a combination of the quintessential English butler and something else Xander had yet to quantify. The man always showed up where you needed him, with what you needed. After the fifth time he popped up before Xander could even ask for something, Xander determined he was either psychic or he had the whole mansion under surveillance.

  


It was getting toward evening, the sun lowering in the sky, casting long shadows over the woods and meadows around the Mansion as Xander walked slowly along one of the trails through the wood. He could see the building though the trees every now and then as they thinned out here and there. The only sounds were the rustle of the wind in the leaves, the low buzz of insects, and the occasional call of a lone bird. 

It was different in Sunnydale. The woods weren't really all that different, but the underlying aura of darkness and fear that could be felt in the forest about Sunnydale was absent here. It made taking a walk a whole different experience.

Certainly removes the whole fear-of-horrific-death-after-darkness-falls thing, Xander thought. 

He was feeling rather contemplative. After the statement by Ranaldis, yesterday, that it would possibly be months before he could go home he had fallen into something of a funk. Lara had let him brood yesterday but this morning seemed to have taken it upon herself to pull him out of it. Her method had been quite direct, and he had the bruises for evidence. They hadn't spent long on the practice mat, just enough time for Lara to gauge his fighting ability. She hadn't been impressed. 

Stopping on a slight rise where a beak in the trees allowed him a view of the mansion, he gave a bitter chuckle. 

What was there for her to be impressed by, really? Usually when he staked a vampire it was because he had surprise, or it was distracted, or a very new vamp. His thoughts turned even darker as her remembered what he had told Anya once when he'd had the, Spike inspired argument with Will and Buffy. He had said, "I'm not sure they're wrong." 

Some part of him deep down still wasn't sure. Even after the things he had accomplished since. Did he really amount to anything? 

  


He didn't know. 

  


  


***

  


  


The next morning Lara waited for Xander to arrive in the practice room and watched Akahito Daishi move gracefully through the forms. The old man was an expert in the martial art of Aikido, a sixth degree black belt to be precise. Lara had saved his daughter, Sachi, three years ago from a rather dangerous situation involving the Yakuza. The old man insisted that he owed her a great debt, and Lara had kept in touch over the intervening years. 

  


The problem of training Xander had brought Akahito to mind. A human fighting vampires hand-to-hand was generally not the brightest of ideas; vampires were, in general both faster and stronger. Aikido, however, was based upon using your opponent's own force to defeat him. To a point, it didn't matter how much stronger the person you were fighting was than you, a person skilled in Aikido could still beat them. Also fortunately, most vampires didn't know how to fight in the first place. 

  


She knew it worked from personal observation: once seeing Akahito go through a pack of vampires in a matter of seconds. Dusting the last before the ashes of the first had even settled. There hadn't been a single wasted motion, he had just seemed to flow, a human whirlwind. 

  


Xander entered the room, pausing briefly at the sight of the old man. Lara watched as he approached her. In spite of his smile she saw the brooding look had returned to his eyes. She was going to have to work on that. 

  


As Xander arrived Akahito smoothly ended his kata's and glided over to them.

  


"Xander this is Akahito Daishi. He's going to be teaching you for as long as you're here."

  


"Oh, ah…okay."

  


She smiled at his hesitation. "My particular style of fighting is not the most…effective when dealing with things like vampires. Akahito is going to show you a better way."

  


"Hajimamashite, Alexander." The old man's accent was pronounced, but his words were clearly understandable. "Lara has spoken to me of your fight against the darkness. It is a noble thing that you do, of which I highly approve. She has asked me to teach you Aikido so that you may accomplish your goals more effectively."

  


"Aikido, as in Steven Segal?" At their blank looks he said, "Okay, no Steven here. But him aside, isn't Aikido supposed to be defensive?"

  


The old man said, "Is not keeping yourself alive a most excellent goal? For you cannot complete your task if you are not still living to accomplish it. Shall we begin?"

  


Akahito stepped away onto the mat, and Xander, glancing once at Lara, followed.

  


  


  


  


  


Bryce glanced up from the circuit board he was soldering as Xander gimped into the room. The young man was moving slowly, and was looking like someone who'd just had the tar beaten out of him.

"What happened to you?"

"A little Japanese guy."

"Oh, Akahito?

"Yup."

Bryce stared at him a moment longer then shook his head. "Lara tried to get me to learn it, but the physical stuff isn't for me, it's just too painful. Any fighting comes along I have SIMON take care of it."

"A very sensible attitude, I'm beginning to think. Do you know where Lara is?" 

Bryce gestured with the soldering iron. "Check the kitchen. Last I saw of her she mentioned getting something to eat." 

"Thanks, man." Xander limped back out.

  


  


  


  


Xander entered the kitchen to find Lara at the table. Seeing what she was eating, in spite of his battered state, he smiled. 

"Beans on toast?"

"Of course." Her mouth quirked. "I can't eat caviar and truffles all the time."

Wincing, as he sat down he said, "I don't think I've ever had that particular combination before."

Lara slid her plate, with the remaining piece, sideways to sit in front of him. She watched as he began to eat it, and Xander became a little uncomfortable under her silent scrutiny. 

"Daishi Sensei is brutal," Xander said, breaking the silence when his arm gave a particularly violent twinge. 

Lara continued to say nothing.

"You know, the silent stare gets a little unnerving after the first minute or so. Care to share what's behind it?" Popping the remaining bit into his mouth, he looked back at her.

Lara, apparently deciding something, stood. "Come on, I have something to show you." 

She stopped in the door when she realized he was still sitting at the table. "Is there something wrong?"

"Ah, sorta. You see, I'd really like to come with you," he said, giving her a pained smile. 

  


"But I can't seem to get up."

  



End file.
